To Brave the Front
by Aroundthepen
Summary: The eternal winter has thawed and Hans is safely locked away. But trouble hasn't finished with Arendelle's new queen. Between patching up her broken relationship with her sister, and protecting her kingdom from the threat of war, Elsa has to prove that she is capable of being good, and restoring it. Elsa also has to control her powers. Will she manage to survive?
1. Chapter 1

So I started this I think 2 years ago when Frozen actually came out, and wrote a hell of a lot. (Actually posted a little on .) But I hated it and started over. Here I am, trying to give us the strong, powerful, regal Elsa we all deserve. Give me a little feedback please? I have a few chapters written and edited, so if you guys like it I'll keep posting every week.

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A loud knock on the study door interrupts Elsa in the course of reviewing the trade document in her hands. She feels a jolt in her chest at the sound, a familiar spike of fear that appears whenever she's been alone for too long and is presented with the immediate threat of social exchange. She hasn't quite gotten used to someone wanting to be in her presence.

Sighing, she looks up, placing the piece of parchment back on the desk.

"Come in," she says, resting her chin on her fingers.

The door bursts open and squeals on its hinges, but Elsa can only flinch before Anna is occupying her full attention.

"Elsa," sings Anna, too excited to stay in one spot so she twirls and bounces as she speaks. "The sun is up, it's a beautiful day, and the royal carriage hasn't been used for years."

Elsa freezes (not literally). The sun has clearly risen above the fjord through her window. Her candles were stubs at this stage, giving off a dim glow that was even weaker in the sunlight. She hadn't noticed. What time was it when she started working?

"Let's go into the town," Anna continued, shaking Elsa from her reverie, "do some exploring!"

The corners of Elsa's lips twitch. She endures roughly five of these interruptions a day—and that's only because Anna is holding herself back. For the whole two weeks that she has been back at the castle, Anna has hardly left her side. Something about "don't want you to be such a lonely grump anymore", but Elsa knows Anna missed her too.

She blows out her candles.

"Can it wait until I've finished here?" she asks, knowing already that even though she's asking the question, she won't move until she's finished for the day. "These trade agreements won't sign themselves, and you said yourself you wanted, how did you put it, 'all of these—'"

"'—greasy, big-nosed, noble arses out of our home', yes I know." Anna rolls her eyes and plops herself down on the chair in front of the desk, resting her head on her hand. She blows her fringe out of her face. "I just don't know why they have to stay here for so long."

Elsa watches her sister fiddle with an inkpot for a moment, a pout creasing her face. "You know why, Anna. We lost ninety percent of our livestock and crops thanks to my—my foolish mistake. We need to feed the kingdom and care for those who fell ill as a result. We're lucky to be able to afford to set up any trade agreements at all, what with my new reputation and the rumours that are surely flying about at present."

Anna sits up straight. "Elsa, no one believes you did it on purpose. You wouldn't hurt a fly. You even saved the kingdom!"

"I only saved it from myself. Far from heroic."

"Elsa—"

Anna's hand reaches across for Elsa's, but Elsa avoids the contact, shuffling her documents instead. Anna's fingers curl in and she

withdraws her hand slowly.

"Please, Anna. Just one more trade agreement and then I'm all yours." She doesn't wait for an answer before turning her attention back to the document she has picked up. The door doesn't make much noise this time as Anna exits the study.

A familiar, sickeningly heavy feeling churns Elsa's stomach. Intimate as she is with guilt, it never gets easier, and her sister seems to trigger a stronger brand of it to rise within her.

Elsa shakes her head. The sooner she finishes her work, the sooner she can go to apologise to Anna. The advantage to finishing her work today was that it was the last thing to settle before a final reading for the other five heads of state and herself and then they would be gone. And she would be able to catch a break from the headaches that have been plaguing her all week.

In return for supplying them with food and medicines, Arendelle will supply her five closest allies with ice. Elsa's ice has proven difficult to thaw, and this invaluable quality helps the warmer kingdoms, like Corona, preserve their food during the hot summer and mild winter. On top of that, she is signing an alliance with three of the five. Arendelle's mountain-and-snow landscape has resulted in excellent training for the military, and so her kingdom is a great asset to those bigger countries.

Elsa is lucky her kingdom has anything to offer, not wanting to spend her entire time as Queen ruling over a starved and impoverished land, watching her people suffer and die before her very eyes. How much more disappointed would her parents be in her if she couldn't handle this either?

When everything looks to be in order, Elsa signs the document. She sighs and sits back in her chair, closing her eyes and letting the evening sun warm the surface of her skin through the window. Just a few seconds, she tells herself, all she needs are a few seconds to relax. Her head is pounding too much now. She just hasn't had a minute yet—

"Your Majesty?"

A voice calls to her as someone raps their knuckles sharply on the door.

Elsa's eyes open slowly and she frowns at the door for a moment before moving to open it herself. Kai stands there with a deep frown, the type of frown he always has when Anna has caused some sort of mishap. Elsa pulls her mouth into a polite smile.

"I'll find her, Kai," she says. "It's not too serious, I hope?"

"Only a few loose pigs in the courtyard, Ma'am, nothing hugely out of control. Although Helga might have a bad hip now from tripping over one."

Elsa nods. "Give her my sympathies and have the court physician see that it's nothing serious. They have been rounded up again I take it?"

He bows.

She steps forward and closes the door of the study behind her before pausing. "How is the process of hiring new staff progressing?"

"The number castle guards has increased to almost twice of that which it was before. We have eight newly hired housemaids, and ten more working in the kitchens. And then another seven members of other staff, Ma'am."

"Good. Thank you, Kai. I will expect an update soon."

He bows again, this time lower, and takes his leave. Elsa makes her way to Anna's chambers. She knows exactly where the young princess will be, and knows that she will quite possibly be sulking. She doesn't bother knocking on the door, and when she opens it to see the room empty but the far windows thrown open her suspicions are confirmed. She walks out onto the balcony and looks up behind her to see Anna sitting slumped on the roof. How Anna has the physical prowess to haul herself up there Elsa will never know.

With a flick of her wrist she fashions a small staircase for herself. She knows Anna has felt the air cool around her, but she hasn't turned.

"I didn't think you knew about this place" Anna asks as Elsa reaches the top of the stairs, neatly smoothing her skirts underneath herself as she sits beside her sister.

"I used to follow you sometimes," Elsa replies. "I would hear you get angry with our parents, or Kai, or whoever else was chastising you on that particular day. It concerned me, that you were upset because I knew it was probably my fault, directly or indirectly. So on those days that I felt particularly weak or selfish, or I simply missed you too much to keep myself away, I would creep silently down the hall to watch you through that window." She points at the window facing them on the east side of the castle. "I would only watch you for a few moments, but it felt… it almost felt as if I were beside you, comforting you. As if I were actually your big sister, doing what a big sister is supposed to do."

Anna is silent. Elsa is sure she feels it too, this tiny connecting point spanning the foot between them, like a thin line of electricity, making the moment seem like glass, as if a breath too heavy would shatter it, extinguishing the spark.

The feeling prickles across her skin. She isn't sure if she likes it or not—everything feels just a little too big, just a little too close.

"I used to imagine you were there with me, making jokes about them to make me feel better. You'd always have the right thing to say to me to make me smile."

Anna looks at her now, and Elsa can see how fragile her expression is, how vulnerable she is, how young she is. So much pain in her eyes.

Too much for someone this young. Elsa, not for the first time, wishes her powers are able to do something good, like take Anna's pain away.

She feels her whole chest aching, her ribcage constricting a little, pushing all the air up to her throat. She averts her gaze, choosing instead to study the long fall down to the castle courtyard. And just like that, their glass moment smashes under the weight of her guilt.

Anna's presence beside her is like a dagger in her side. She's never been the best at managing the guilt, heavier now than ever because of how much closer she is to Anna. When she was isolated in her room she could at least pretend there was no one else, just her and the four walls of her bedroom. She could distance herself from the constant reminder of what she'd done, lose herself in a state of lifelessness and despair with no energy to face her guilt.

She can feel pinpricks of ice spreading millimetres away from where she's sitting. The crackling noise the ice is making fills her head until it's all she can hear. She clenches every muscle in her body, trying to keep the ice inside.

"So what happened with the pigs?" she asks, changing the subject.

"The pigs?" Anna laughs. "I was looking for Kristoff in the stable—he spends an unhealthy amount of time down there I'm actually kind of worried—but he wasn't there. So of course I was bored and frustrated and tripped over my feet on the way out, unlocking the pig pen next door and setting them loose. Then I came here."

"It caused quite a bit of uproar. Kai came to get me."

Anna shrugs. "Yeah well, it's not like I don't always cause trouble."

Elsa frowns at her. "Anna. That's not true. You're a delight."

Anna looks over at her, grinning. "Thanks Elsa."

"Did you finish your work?" she asks quietly, her eyes thoughtful on the fjord.

"Yes, thank you," she answers, just as quietly. "There will be a meeting tomorrow in the early morning, and then they will catch the tide at noon." She hesitates a moment before adding "Leaving my afternoon free." She looks over at Anna hesitantly.

Anna's watching her with careful eyes and a smile, her mood visibly lifting. "You know, the carriage hasn't been used in about a bajillion years."

"Mmm," Elsa agrees with the hint of a smile. "It would be a shame to let it rot in the stable."

Anna leaps up, balancing herself on the roof tiles. She lets out a bark of laughter when she sees the icy staircase leading down to her balcony. Elsa follows her down and makes to vanish the ice when Anna's hand stops her. She can't help it—she tenses.

Anna doesn't hold tightly enough for it to be a soft, loving gesture, but she doesn't let go either.

"Leave it," says Anna. "I like it."

Elsa nods slowly, her skin itching where Anna is touching her. She can feel the ice prickling under her skin, _so close to Anna's_. She lets go and Elsa snatches her arm back to hold it against her chest, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Anna has already turned and is speeding through her bedroom and out into the hall, calling for a servant to ready the carriage. Elsa follows at a much slower pace. She can't let Anna touch her so easily. She has to be more careful, she can't be taken by surprise.

But hasn't she found the key to controlling herself?

No, it's too dangerous, Anna could get hurt—

This is the kind of thinking that had gotten them into this mess in the first place! She's more careful now, they're both more careful—

But—

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa's head snaps up.

She's in the corridor outside Anna's room. And the whole length of it is coated in a thin sheet of ice. The paintings are all frosted over and

icicles hang from the bottoms of their frames. Stalactites cross points with each other above her head.

A small, weak sound escapes her. She looks in front of her to see a young woman, no older than herself, staring at her with wide eyes. She is dressed in a castle maid's outfit, but Elsa has never seen her before (not that she's seen many people over the years).

Great. Now she was frightening the new personnel.

"I'm sorry," says Elsa, voice wobbly. She closes her eyes and thinks of Anna, steering as clear as she can from the cloud of anxious thoughts from before. Spreading her fingers and bringing her hands together, Elsa clears the ice from the corridor. She dusts her hands together and the rest of the blue magic vanishes.

She starts to walk away from the maid, nodding at the little curtsey she receives as she leaves. Elsa takes the rest of the walk through the castle to calm down, to ease the rising tide of ice and snow that has built up. She can't imagine spending the rest of her life having to do this to be okay, to just be normal. It frightens her, that she will be stuck with shorter breath and horrible intrusive thoughts and an inability to be close to her loved ones. What if every time she has a stressful day as queen she has to lock herself up and just breathe for hours to get the temperature to warm up around her, to get the sharp icicles that crop up from her footsteps to recede? She won't ever function like a normal human being, how will she ever function as a sister? And a queen? Thousands of people depend on—

"Elsa!"

What is it with the interruptions today? She has too many thoughts in her head, she wants them all to leak out of her ears so she can spend all of her time concentrating on the red-haired princess running up to her now, plaits flapping in the wind.

"Elsa the carriage is ready!" Anna squeals, jumping up and down with her hands in fists under her chin and her shoulders drawn up to her ears. "We're gonna be able to take a ride around town. Eeep!"

"Okay," Elsa chuckles, drawing her hands together behind her back. "Let's go, moppet. Or we'll miss all the good food in the market for lunch."

A strange look passes over Anna's face for a moment, but it's gone so quickly Elsa can't tell if it was really there or not. She jumps into the carriage and Elsa climbs in after her, declining the hand held out to her by the footman. The door closes and suddenly she realises she's in a tiny confined space with her sister and that the danger of her hurting Anna is extremely high. She tries to concentrate on her sister's excited babbling about something to do with that mountain man and not turning the coach into a giant ice cube.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello there! As promised, here is the second chapter. This is when our story really starts, I think. As always, please give me feedback! If there's anything you think I can do better with, or something that simply doesn't work, or if you have something positive to say I won't say no to hearing it. Enjoy.

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The rest of the morning is spent visiting shops and inns, and collecting strange bits and bobs from all over the inner town, with various gifts from the citizens. Elsa has never been given so many flowers in her life, even counting that phase Anna went through when she was ten and left a flower outside Elsa's door every day for seven months in hopes she would come out. (Elsa kept them all until they died and for months her room smelt of something other than tears and loneliness.) They are handed to the guards but Elsa insists on carrying them all herself.

When asked where they go to relax after arduous days guarding the palace, the royal sisters' guard lead them to an inn. Inside it is warm and loud and so cheerful Elsa feels like she's experiencing the emotion for the first time. Even though there are six guards constantly at her side, Elsa feels welcome and had a very pleasant time. There are men and women taking their lunches here; laughter and relaxed conversation rolling lazily around. Everything is so natural and simple—life seems so much easier. The people look at her like she is their reigning queen, not their reigning monster. There is joking and good humour. The atmosphere is something Elsa can get drunk on. She and Anna are each given one of the inn's 'famous' tankards of mead that they drink in front of everyone. Elsa's corset feels a little tight after that.

Elsa wants to thank the innkeeper for her wonderful hospitality, and Anna suggests she gives her something magical. So she fashions a tankard of ice on a little plinth. It sparkles silver and blue and when Elsa hands it to her, the inn keeper's smile sparkles just as brightly. The citizens in the inn clap and cheer when it is placed over the bar for all to see. (Elsa's face is burning, but she makes sure she is as composed as she can be.)

They finally arrive in the town square, the flea market full of happy people and lovely smells. The sun warms the air almost to an uncomfortable heat for Elsa, but no one else seems to mind too much. Maybe it's because her ordinary cloth dresses are a lot thicker than the ice dress she'd abandoned a week ago. Even in silk she feels a little too warm. Anna has also made them leave the carriage in the outskirts of the town to "better experience the town without being recognised so much" (that hasn't worked—Anna just made herself more approachable), which has left Elsa's feet aching and sore. Despite that, the atmosphere is infectious. She's almost smiling.

Curiosity drowns out almost every feeling of anxiety in her and although she is hesitant about the vast crowds she is drawn to all the different stalls. There are almost too many details to take in. The array of different colours and the various shouts of vendors trying to sell their goods has a feeling prickling in her veins that is so different from her ice. She feels excited.

Anna wants to get some foods and Elsa is beginning to really feel the heat. She wants to find some shade where they can enjoy their food.

The direct sunlight just gets to a point that begins to hurt, burning on the back of her neck when suddenly it's gone. A huge shadow falls over her and she turns, ready to ask the lieutenant what is going on. When she sees what he sees, she has a similar reaction.

In front of her stands the most enormous fellow she has ever seen smiling toothily at her. He seems to be as big as Marshmallow. With at least seven small children hanging off his every limb and a baby slung across his torso. Her mouth opens ever so slightly.

"Your Majesty," he says, bending low at the waist and causing all the children on the upper half of his body to dangle over the ground below.

Elsa hardly remembers herself, acknowledging him with a nod only out of second nature. She has no idea how to react to the situation. During the whole course of the morning, Anna had been the only one neared and spoken to. Of course, people had bowed and curtseyed to Elsa, but most of their smiles were a little tighter with her, a little less natural than how they were with Anna. They are frightened of her and she can't fault them for it.

However, here is this gigantic man and these eight small children, all equipped with a matching grin, looking straight at her. She is too much in shock to feel at all anxious.

"Sir?" she says, forcing her voice out a little.

The man looks down to his right leg and she follows his gaze to a little boy peeking out from behind the man's calf. He's sucking his thumb and his eyes are as round and wide as gold coins. He mustn't be older than three years old.

"Go on," says the man, nudging the boy forward with his hand.

The little boy looks up to him through his dark lashes, the edges brushing his jet black fringe. His bottom lip wobbles for a moment before he takes a few tentative steps toward Elsa. Someone nudges her shoulder and she looks to see Anna smiling warmly and motioning for her to crouch down.

She does and it seems to encourage the little boy. His eyes flick up to the man once more before he makes a little bow and takes another step forward.

"Your hair is beautiful," he whispers, a lisp softening his words. The man behind him clears his throat, and the boy's cheeks colour before he squeaks out, "Your Majesty."

Elsa can feel Anna's happiness and excitement radiating out of her, but she doesn't know how to react, what to say. A sharp jab in her side prompts her to thank the child, and his smile is blinding.

"As is yours."

She'd not lying to please him either. When the sun shines on his hair, the inky blackness turns blue. It's beautiful, as silky as oil. Elsa has always wanted dark hair; hair that doesn't make her the picture of winter, that means she can be normal. She got everything from her mother except her colouring. What she wouldn't give to be rid of her curse.

She takes a shaky breath and tries to calm herself. Things wouldn't bode well if she were to lose control of her powers right now.

The boy looks like he can hardly believe his queen is actually complimenting. His grin makes his eyes sparkle and dance.

Anna starts to say something and the boy giggles, but Elsa suddenly can't hear it. What she does hear is a whistling sound—the same whistling that comes from an arrow slicing through the air.

She doesn't think.

She pushes her right arm to the side and Anna is whisked away in a cold blast to land on a pillow of snow. She jerks her left forearm up above her head and curls around the tiny boy, relying on the thick sheet of ice that has risen from the ground with her arm to protect them.

Screams fill the air along with the thudding sound of running feet. All Elsa can hear though, is her blood pounding through her ears and her heart drumming in her ribcage.

No one moves.

A few seconds of silence pass and the square is almost entirely empty when Elsa opens her eyes.

The six guards are shouting and running to the two sisters but she hears them as if she's underwater. They were all standing a ways back when the arrow hit, and when Elsa had struck with her ice and snow, she'd let out a strong gust of wind that had pushed anyone within a few metres' radius back even further. Three of them check on Anna and another three have their swords and spears out next to Elsa, the lieutenant trying to talk to her. She doesn't respond, looking out instead at her citizens to see if they're all right. If anyone has been hurt at her doing she doesn't know what she'll do.

Vendors, and the few browsing customers lucky enough to find room, have sought refuge under their stalls. Her hearing returns to normal and she hears quiet sobbing that's not close enough to be an immediate issue, and the loud breaths of the young boy tucked into her side.

The shock pulses through her veins like adrenaline, urging her to move, to do something. Her head is clear and sharp and alert to every possible threat. Her mind has never been so calm and collected.

Elsa looks at the little boy, checking to see if he's injured. Aside from the tears building up in his eyes he seems to be fine and she leads him to his guardian, whom she doesn't look at. How irresponsible she was to let this child in the way of danger! He surely hates her for it.

She looks up to see Anna; safe and whole on the little mound of snow. But for a concerned frown on her face, she seems entirely unshaken. She scrambles up and pushes the guards crowding her out of the way to get over to her sister, wrapping her in a big hug. Elsa gently pushes her arms off and checks her again for any injuries; cuts, bruises, anything.

"Elsa it's snowing," Anna whispers, and Elsa sees she's right. There aren't any clouds, but small flakes are falling softly to the ground. She holds her sister's hand with one of hers and anchors her thoughts on Anna. She uses her other hand to wipe away the icy wall she'd summoned and the rest of the snow.

The arrow clatters to the cobbled stone ground and Elsa picks it up. Her heart is still beating abnormally fast.

"Your Majesty, we need to get you back to the castle."

Elsa turns for the first time to the lieutenant of the castle guard who's leading the royal guards she and Anna have accompanying them. His face is ashen and pulled into a worried frown, his movements jerking. He looks slightly miffed that Elsa has been ignoring him until now.

"Yes," she replies. "Yes, of course. Where is the carriage?"

The lieutenant turns and gestures to the coach a few metres behind him, on the edge of the square.

She turns to the square and looks at the remaining people for the first time. As she speaks she looks into the eyes of each frightened face. "Return home. Protect yourselves. Make no mistake I will discover who is behind this attack, and I will not rest until they are caught and punished. I _will_ protect Arendelle."

This attack makes her angry. Her people should not have to be afraid for their lives and it is her duty to make sure they no longer are.

She turns back to Anna and lowers her voice. "Let's go, Anna. It's not safe."

The six guards close ranks around the two sisters, surrounding them with their weapons bared. The lieutenant hands them in himself, his worried eyes scanning the square for any sign of an immediate threat. Elsa sees Anna into the carriage and climbs in after her, sitting opposite on the opposite bench. The adrenaline is fading, leaving a pounding headache in its place. She turns the arrow over in her hands and notices a scrap of parchment attached to it. Funny. No one has used parchment in centuries. She unbinds the leather cord and unravels the note.

What is written chills her blood in a way she's never experienced. One word is scrawled on the paper in black ink.

 ** _WITCH_**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys. I just want to say thank you to every single person who took a little time to write a review for my last two chapters. Kudos to you guys! I hope you guys like this chapter.

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"Elsa, you're bleeding."

"Hmm?" Elsa crumples the note in her hand and squeezes it in her fist as if she can squeeze the ink from the parchment. Her head feels faint. They're travelling very fast back to the castle which isn't really helping. She forces a blank expression before meeting Anna's eyes, but the image of the note remains stamped in her mind. "Pardon?"

"Your arm, Elsa," Anna says, reaching forward and gently touching the underside of Elsa's left forearm. "It's badly cut."

A searing pain in the place she touched flares up and Elsa snatches her arm back, hissing.

"Ouch," she says dumbly, cradling her arm. When she takes her hand away to inspect the wound, it's covered in blood. As is the side of her dress, and the purple velvet she is sitting on.

Oh goodness.

"You need to dress it. I remember when I was about fourteen and I tripped and fell on this waylaid spear. It cut all the way down my shoulder." Anna bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, making to tear off a strip of the material. "It was horrible, there was so much _blood_ , and I—"

"Oh, no," Elsa says, trying a smile that she suspects is a badly concealed grimace. "Anna, don't ruin your dress, it's not worth it. If I can make a dress, I can make a bandage."

 _Witch._

"Okay," Anna says, shrugging. "But I tried to make my own bandage once when I was nine and Dr Natvig had a fit when he saw it. Ordered me to never try and fix myself up again, to come straight to him. I mean…"

Elsa takes a deep breath and tunes out Anna's babbling. She tries to ignore how lightheaded she feels and glides her opposite hand over her forearm, concentrating harder than usual as she tries to fabricate the dressing.

Thin strands of ice weave together and wrap around her arm with her other hand waving up, over, and around the injury She is careful not to touch the actual wound lest she freeze it entirely (and she doesn't know if she's immune to frostbite yet). The icy gauze thickens as she continues to wrap it, tighter and tighter and tighter.

 _WITCH._

Elsa's hand jarrs and a monstrous icy spike springs from the carriage floor. The large spear-like icicle slices open her thigh and she gasps in pain. Anna squeaks and scrambles into the opposite corner. The coach jostles to a stop with the weight and she can hear the horses whinny, annoyed, the coachman trying to calm them.

"Oh gosh," she cries, "Anna I'm—Anna I—please I'm sorry—"

"Elsa," Anna cuts her off in a soothing voice. "It's okay it was a mistake, I'm okay. Calm down, I'm okay. You're—less okay."

Someone shouts, "Your Majesty!" and Elsa looks out the window of the carriage, frightened. She can see the lieutenant marching up towards them.

Anna reaches forward to lay a reassuring hand on Elsa's shoulder but Elsa pulls back sharply.

"No," she chokes. "Anna, I'm too dangerous."

How can she have let this happen? How can she have done this with _Anna right beside her?_

 _WITCH._

Oh goodness she can't breathe. She's a monster, she needs to get _out_.

There's so much blood.

She scrabbles at the handle of the carriage door but she can't move her arm the way she wants it to move. She's moving so slowly and she can't seem to push down on handle. Everything is so exhausting. The world is starting to spin.

Anna is talking to someone and they're talking back, she can hear it, but she can't make out any words. The volume is getting lower and lower. Her tongue isn't working fast enough to tell Anna to _stop talking_. And why is it getting dark?

 _(Can't breathe—)_

Yes! She manages to get the door open—but it swings too far and she falls out and lands on her hands and knees.

The ground blossoms beautifully at her touch, lovely and blue and _sparkling_ —

Somebody screams something that's close to her name, she knows, but the spots are blurring her vision and she's slumping, unable to

move.

 _(CAN'T BREATHE—)_

More faint shouting—why can't everyone just _shut up_?

The beautiful blue in front of her is fading—oh no! She can't see much anymore.

She welcomes the darkness and relaxes into its warmth until everything is black and she doesn't feel.

All of her senses come back slowly, but at the same time. She can smell the rusty scent of blood mixed with the sharp smell of medicinal alcohol. She can taste that same rust on her tongue, and can feel some crumpled paper in her hand, the linen sheets under and over her body, wrapping her up so tightly she can barely move. Someone is humming beside her and she can sense the soft candlelight through her closed lids, but she doesn't want to open her eyes just yet.

The humming stops.

"I know you're awake, Elsa," says Anna's voice, low. "The temperature just dropped."

"What?" she says in a strangled voice, eyes flying open.

Anna snorts and smiles fragilely at her sister. She's sitting in a wicker armchair by the bed. "Just did it again."

Elsa struggles against the blankets, but only two of her four limbs are working properly. Her left forearm and thigh are tightly wrapped in gauze. They're so heavy and she's so tired.

Her head falls back against the pillows. It feels like it weighs a tonne. She looks wearily at her sister. Her mouth doesn't want to open for her.

"You lost a lot of blood," Anna says, looking at a spot about a metre above Elsa. There's a dimple between her brows but she's not quite frowning. Her voice is just slightly thicker. "And that mixed with the shock, boy. No wonder you fainted. They said they couldn't be sure they could help you. You were so pale—I mean, paler than usual. Cold, too." She fixes a frown on her sister. "You were freezing, though. So cold your heart rate slowed almost to a stop. But that meant your blood wasn't flowing as fast either. It wasn't pouring out of you like before. You were so cold. So lifeless. They patched up the wound but the doctor said he needn't have. The moment your blood had stopped flowing, like, ninety five percent, these little threads of ice started to weave themselves around the wounds. We didn't know what that meant, still don't. Your blood flow returned to normal soon after. Well, apparently your blood pressure is a little below average but you seemed fine. They didn't do much. Just a bunch of monitoring. You should have seen them; looking at you like your were a scientific experiment. I had to fight to have an hour alone with you. You've been out for a few hours. It's not very much, considering. Ordinary people would be out for a lot longer."

Indeed the slanted light of evening is spilling in through Elsa's half-covered windows.

"I'm sorry, Anna," she croaks. She has to force her voice around the lump in her throat, and the tears building up in the corners of her eyes are making it hard to see. "I'm so sorry. I thought I could control myself, I thought I'd never have to hurt you again. I'm so sorry."

She looks up to the ceiling and blinks back the tears, determined not to let them fall. Anna surprises her with a hug so tight she squeezes the breath from her lungs. She buries her head in Elsa's neck and mumbles something that Elsa can't make out.

"What?" she questions.

Anna lifts her head ever so slightly and says, "I said, you never have to be sorry for who you are." She steps back into the wicker armchair.

"It was a mistake. You were still in shock from this morning. It's okay, you're allowed to make mistakes. I'm fine, anyway, just a little surprised."

Elsa groans and kneads the heel of her right hand into her eye socket. "I thought I was supposed to be able to control myself now. I should be able to control myself!"

Her fingers dig into her palm and she feels that crumpled piece of paper again. Her eyes blink open, and this time when she tries to get out of bed, she manages it.

"Whoa!" says her sister, jumping forward to push her gently back down. "Where do you think you're going in this state?"

She's right; Elsa's in no state to move. Her head is spinning and she feels faint again, but this is too important. She throws her good arm over her sister's shoulders.

"Anna," she wheezes, "either help me or spend the next few hours trying to escape handcuffs made of ice. I need to call an emergency council meeting. It's vital."

Anna looks worriedly at her, but stays quiet. She grabs a nearby shawl and throws it over Elsa's chemise and petticoat. Elsa nods and grits her teeth.

Carefully, oh so carefully, she fashions a makeshift sling of icy fabric.

"Help, please," she says and Anna ties it around her arm and neck. She gets back under Elsa's arm and they limp the ten steps out of her bedroom together.

In the corridor outside they meet a young maid whom they send to call for the meeting in the council room. It's right beside her study, one floor down.

"Okay," Elsa pants. "It will take some time for them to be assembled. In the meantime, I can't arrive looking like this. Anna, would you mind awfully retrieving my crown from my room please?"

"Are you sure you can stand by yourself?" Anna doesn't move from under Elsa's arm.

"Yes, I'm fine, don't worry."

Her smile is weak, but it seems to do the trick.

Anna runs back into the room and Elsa takes those few seconds to redress herself in her powder blue lace. The icy material feels sinfully good on her. It crawls over her skin, braiding and knitting together and disappearing under the shawl over her shoulders.

It pains her to have her ice dress on again so soon. She thought she'd last longer than a week, but there is no question of her putting on an actual cloth dress in her current state. Nevertheless, she feels somehow ashamed of having it on, as if she is wrongfully advocating her powers. She feels like both the worst and best sides of herself are coming out.

"I found it!" Anna comes running out—and trips over her own feet, flying out of the door and crashing to the ground. "Ow. Hey! The dress is back."

Elsa chuckles and extends her hand which Anna ignores.

"You're hurt," she says, "remember?"

"You should be more careful," Elsa admonishes with a smile.

Anna laughs. She gets up clumsily and steps behind Elsa to tuck her messy plait into a knot at the nape of her neck. Elsa feels her fingertips brush her skin and can't help tensing. The ice is sparking across her skin and between her fingers and she moves a few steps away involuntarily, turning to face her sister. She tucks the strays into the bun herself.

Anna sighs quietly. She steps forward with the crown and they hear a crunching sound. There is a circle of frost on the floor where Elsa was standing. Anna determinedly ignores it and places the crown on Elsa's head anyway.

"There," she says, smiling with a fire in her eyes. "Fit for a queen."

"I'm sor—"

"Nope."

Before Elsa can protest Anna ducks under her arm and they make it about six steps before Elsa has to stop and sit down on the floor, feeling too lightheaded to continue. Her head drops into her hands and she groans.

"This isn't going to work, Anna," she grumbles. "I'm too weak."

She raises her head to look mournfully at her sister who plops down beside her.

"Well," Anna replies, "unless you have another one of those Marshmallow snowmen up your sleeve, we'll just have to deal with it."

Wait. "Anna… That's brilliant!"

"What is?"

Elsa doesn't answer. She rises, a little wobbly, and motions her hands. With a flash of blue light and a white cloud a snowman erupts from the ground.

"Woah!" cries Anna. "I wasn't thinking literally!"

Elsa smiles. Her snowman is built of blocks of hard-packed snow and it stops about two feet taller than her. It's smaller than Marshmallow by a long shot, but it'll do its new job perfectly well. It bows to her.

"Now," she says, stepping forward. "Take me to the meeting."

The snowman stoops to pick her up and she sits comfortably in its arms. She looks to Anna who is grinning like Christmas has come early.

"This is so awesome."

Elsa just rolls her eyes and the three of them make their way to the next floor down in the castle. It's not exactly uncomfortable, but she feels strange in the hands of living snow all the same. He seems so alive, despite being made of something so lifeless. It scares her a lot, actually, to know what she can do with her powers. It scares her, knowing she can bring things into this world.

She shakes her head and tries to push those thoughts out of her head. There's little point in going into the council meeting even more anxious than she is now.

"All right." Elsa stops them at the door. "Thank you." The snowman lets her down gently against the wall, so that she can use something to prop herself up. Then she waves him away in a whirl of snowflakes and blue glitter.

"Uh, what are you doing?" asks Anna.

"I don't think it would put me forward in the best light if I arrived in the arms of a living snowman, Anna," Elsa replies, fashioning a crutch of thick ice. She looks at her sister. "Not everyone is as excited as you are when faced with magic like this."

"Then they haven't had enough fun in a long time." Anna puts her hand on the doorknob when Elsa stops her.

"Wait," she says. "I need you to do something else."

Elsa hesitates. The crinkled edges of the note bite into her palm. She can't let Anna know about it, it would upset her. (Or worse, convince her of the truth of its message.)

She knows it's unfair of her to lie to her sister like this, after she's been so good, but she has to. Anna doesn't do well in formal situations, and frankly, she'd be a hindrance to the meeting. Elsa hates to think of her sister like that, hates to admit it at all, but it's just that she isn't cut out for it. She doesn't have the practical, rational, logical mind for it. She's far too excitable to engage in serious matters. But Elsa loves her for that. She loves that Anna comes as a respite. There is a lot of that child in her that never grew up.

"Ooh," Anna grins, "do you need a spy? I could totally be a spy!"

Case in point.

"No, not a spy." Elsa smiles. "I think it would be a good idea if you helped repair the damage you caused from earlier on. Bring Helga some flowers? It's important to show your subjects you care."

Anna sighs and her shoulders sag. She juts her bottom lip out and looks so much like a lost puppy Elsa has to resist the urge to place her hand on Anna's cheek affectionately.

"Fine," groans Anna, pouting. "You realise you're already lecturing me on proper princess duties? You're turning into Kai. Or Papa. I'll just take Kristoff with me. That'll be more fun."

Anna turns and stomps toward the staircase, still muttering about Kristoff and how when they were adventuring together it was so much less boring. (She'll have to look into this Mountain-Man-Mr Bjorgman. No man will _touch_ Anna until Elsa has examined everything he is.) Elsa just shakes her head, the amusement only marginally abating her nerves of what is behind the doors. She can hear raised voices but can't make out the words.

She takes a deep breath and enters anyway, leaking her face of emotion and lifting her chin just the slightest.

The conversation in the room stops, and they all rise to greet her. They bow and she nods and their eyes watch her as she limps around to the head of the oval table. It's hard to look dignified with a crutch and she can feel each of their stares like a hot needle in her skin, burning through her flesh to see the monster she truly is.

Her breathing is the loudest thing in the room right in this second. It crashes against her eardrums like storming waves.

She manages to make it to her seat and she sits down. Breathes for a moment. Forgets the ice in her veins. Ignores her anxiety. (It doesn't work.)

"Gentlemen," she begins. She's determined to look them in the eye. "I brought you here to discuss what happened at approximately midday in the square. I presume you have all heard."

They nod.

"It has caused quite an uproar in the town, Your Majesty," says a man, whom she recognises as the General, in a deep gravelly voice.

She hums in agreement. "It was an organised attack. There was a note attached to the arrow which expressed unwelcoming sentiments toward the Crown."

( _WITCH_ )

She steels herself and opens her fist. She smoothes the square of parchment down on the table and pushes it toward the middle of the table.

She feels as if she's baring her entire self to them, as if they can see her very skeleton. This is what she knows, and what everyone else knows, she is. She is an abomination to be slaughtered.

The few seconds of silence makes it worse.

She starts to speak after the loaded pause. "It is clear that they meant to aim that arrow toward me. With this predisposition toward the reigning monarch of Arendelle, we can only assume that whoever shot the arrow has a hostile inclination to the kingdom. I move to initiate a plan of defence immediately."

Her anxiety augments as the note is passed from hand to hand, going round the entire table and placed back in the middle just so the word is facing her. She feels as if it is accusing her, blaming her for being such a dreadful, rotten _creature_. (It's right.)

She hears a tiny crackling noise and catches the ice on the armrests of her chair under hands, trying to will it away and knowing it's not going anywhere.

She looks around the table and everyone stares dubiously back at her.

She raises an eyebrow.

They share glances with each other and an understanding seems to pass through the group that she can't understand. This throws her off and even _she_ can feel the temperature dropping a degree or two.

This isn't the first time she has met with the council; in her past three years as Crown Princess prior to her ascension to the throne she has met regularly with the council, deciding the fate of her kingdom with them much as she is now. She has known them since she was twelve years old and just beginning to accompany her father to the meetings on her only (very brief) trips outside her chambers. They have watched her grow up to be the queen she is and there is a careful bond of trust formed between them over the years. At least there was. Now that she has shown her terrible secret to the kingdom-the world-she is sure that bond is broken. Entirely nonexistent.

The General clears his throat then speaks in a gruff voice. "I second Your Majesty's motion. Gentlemen, an assassination attempt on our Queen is a declaration of war on Arendelle. Everyone who agrees say aye."

A beat passes and the breath hitches in her throat before she hears quiet assent from the men gathered around her table. Only one "Aye", comes a few long moments after the rest.

The hesitating man is tall and wispy. His thin-wire glasses are performing a balancing act on a huge yet narrow hooked nose. Long spidery fingers caress white musketeer facial hair that frames a scowling mouth. Elsa is sure not to stare at him longer than she would the rest.

Still, there is a new tension in the air, one a lot more dangerous and unsettling. Those few seconds she spent looking at him cut into her like nothing she's known. Something has crawled under her skin, sending shivers up and down her back without pause. His eyes are an icy blue, paler than hers, so translucent yet so full of hidden thoughts. It frightens her.

She recalls the first day she was introduced to the man—Ivan Bratvold. He had seemed shrewd and distrusting even then. His scowl, she learnt, is a permanent fixture on his face, never wavering. He was a Count, and a top merchant and businessman in the kingdom. He won his place at the late King's side by being among the cleverest of men.

She was seven that day. Her father had brought her to her first Council Meeting, to show her what it was like in the world of politics. She'd been so excited. And then he had set her on edge with his strange glare, like her skin was translucent, and he could see the storm swirling within her. He had been the only one, without speaking more than two sentences in the five hours the meeting took place, to make her feel like she was most unwelcome.

She's never felt so exposed and vulnerable after that, even when she'd revealed to her whole kingdom the monster she really is. At that time, she'd been scared and desperate and like what she'd done was wrong. He had made her feel like her entire existence was wrong. (He was right.)

Elsa's attention is diverted by the defence plans being roughly sketched by the General. She tries to pay attention and ignore the eyes of Bratvold. She's not a child anymore.

General Toov begins to sort through the different specialised areas of the military that he wants to assign to different places, and Elsa settles herself for a long night of intricate defense strategies and barricades, trying not to let the ripples under her skin show.


	4. Chapter 4

I'd like to apologise. I know it has been several months since last I posted. My only excuse is that, as a real person, I have a real life, and that life decided to get very, very real. So I hope you haven't lost interest, and I'm really really sorry again. I have no idea when I'll be able to update again, but I am hoping it won't take nearly as long. I'll try to stay on top of things. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

The castle is dark and silent as Elsa limps up the stairs. The pain is completely gone in her left arm, but her leg wound twinges with every step she takes. She stops for a moment to wrap her shawl more tightly around her. The council meeting ended about an hour ago and she's not exactly sure what time it is. It could be the wee hours of the morning for all she knows.

She's not sure how she feels yet, but there is no doubt in her mind that she's content with the results of the conference. They have a strong defence strategy that they will implement once the foreign dignitaries are gone, and the men seemed to trust her judgement. Every point she raised was taken into careful consideration.

In turn, she listened to their counsel and shaped her ideas to fit their intelligence on the subject. The table worked well together and at the very end everyone was smiling. She was tired, but satisfied. The General even cracked a joke about Elsa's injuries and how quickly she seemed to have recovered which made them laugh and pulled a tight smile from her.

In the morning they will gather again to do damage control among the citizens. She is to hold a public conference with her subjects in the same square in which she was attacked. They have postponed the meeting with the foreign dignitaries until the morrow in order for her to take care of her own kingdom first. Her Minister for Social Protection & Welfare suggested it would be a good idea to be more united with her people now, to prevent disaster. People will begin to leave if they find Arendelle too dangerous, and that includes the threat of a magical monarch. The more she interacts with her subjects, the more human she seems, and the more they will form an attachment to her. Of course, they loved her parents, the fair and just late King and Queen, and their daughters in turn. But Elsa has to be careful. Arendelle may be a bountiful centre folklore and tales of magical trolls, but she did freeze the entire kingdom. Despite the Great Thaw, she has yet to earn the forgiveness of her people for putting them through what she did.

She almost turns the corner before she catches the shadow of a tall figure standing outside her bedroom door. She draws back behind the wall and opens her right hand. She summons a short icy blade and hides her hand in her shawl, then walks toward the figure with a neutral expression.

They immediately straighten and bow when they see her and their armour catches the moonlight from the bay window opposite. When they raise their head she recognises the face to be the captain's. His hard features and the brown eyes are ones she recognises from her introduction to the castle staff almost three years ago.

She'd liked him from the moment she'd shaken his hand. He'd seemed reasonable and similar to her in a way she couldn't describe. There was something he had that she had too.

Over the years he'd been loyal and hardworking, being her personal liaison with the military and guards even over General Toov. And even though he'd known about her powers for years he had never once let that cloud his judgement of her, never once limited contact like the rest of them. She knew where she stood with him, and he knew where he stood with her.

"Captain," she greets him. She rids herself of the blade with a flick of her hand.

She sees him glance down to her hand before he meets her eyes. He knew. It doesn't surprise her. "Your Majesty. I am here on orders of the General Toov to protect you."

"Protect me?" she responds, confused. "Why? And what happened to the lieutenant? And why are you here at this hour? Could this not have waited until morning?"

"The General has demoted the lieutenant after the incident earlier today. The lieutenant was unable to protect you in the way he should have been."

"That was my fault. I pushed him away." She couldn't let the lieutenant take the fall for something that he hadn't even done.

"Regardless, the General sees the lieutenant as unfit to protect you. He has appointed me as your personal guard, to protect and serve. He does not want to take any chances after this afternoon. I am to guard you around the clock, with you always in my sight."

Elsa narrows her eyes and cocks her head. "He appointed you as my personal guard? When? And why has this not been run past me first?"

The captain pauses for a moment. "I don't know why he didn't run it past you, Your Majesty. He certainly seemed very assured of your approval when he gave the order, I am sure he meant no harm. As to when, it was approximately five minutes before you called the council to meet. I have been here since."

She's quiet for a moment. How could anyone think _she_ is the one who needed protecting? She is the monster, always the offender. People need to protect themselves from her. But why else would the General want the captain following her around at every minute of every day… unless.

Unless he wants her followed. He wants to know what she's doing every minute of every day. Wants to make sure she isn't really a witch, working quietly to bring the kingdom the kingdom down, undoing generations of work. He doesn't want to protect her, he wants to spy on her. She's at the top of the food chain. She could destroy everything.

Of course he doesn't trust her! She wouldn't either. With everything she's shown herself to be, her reputation isn't exactly spotless. No one would take the chance, anyone would be skeptical. The show of trust during the council meeting was just that: a show. He is earning her trust by faking his own.

The ice prickles in her veins, almost as if it's annoyed. She ignores it, she can't give the captain anything to tell him how affected she is, how affronted.

This is a test, and she has to get a perfect grade.

She clears her throat and lifts the corners of her mouth just slightly to be polite.

"My apologies for having kept you waiting," she says, voice smooth. He bows. "If you need anything, or have questions, do not hesitate to knock on my door."

He bows and she turns to go inside her quarters. She only lets herself grimace when she has safely closed the door.

 _Don't hesitate to knock on my door._

How ironic.

She brushes a few snowflakes off her head looks up at the ceiling. It's always snowing in her room. The snow doesn't stick, so there aren't mountains of snow on everything; it seems to vanish a few moments before it touches the ground. She doesn't know how it was enchanted like that, but it has been for years. It's the only place where she can't figure out how to stop it. It just keeps snowing, no matter what she does.

She shakes her head and heads for her bedroom, settling to talk to Anna the moment she wakes. It might assuage the guilt just a tiny bit, and this thought is what permits her to close her eyes and fall into a fitful sleep.

He is in her head.

They're on the fjord, her and Anna. Hans is in her head. Everything is frozen but she feels strange, as if her legs have switched places, or her eyes are down at her stomach. Something inside her is inherently wrong.

His voice is languid and dangerous in her head, drizzling poison wherever it goes. It's in every crevice of her mind.

 _Pick up the sword_ , he's saying.

She looks down.

His sword is at her feet.

 _No, Elsa._

It's Anna this time. She's on her knees in front of Elsa, tears streaming down her face and begging Elsa to stop.

 _Do it and you'll show me how worthless you really are._

Anna please!

 _You're weak, Elsa. You can't even control yourself._

Anna is breaking her heart. Her kind face has twisted into a sneer.

 _Don't listen to her, Your Majesty. Just pick up the sword._

His voice is so compelling. She knows it's wrong but her body seems to be moving of it's own accord. She grips the handle and points it at Anna's chest.

 _Do it,_ Anna spits. _You were never strong enough. You were never anything. You're nothing._

Anna laughs cruelly and Elsa can feel herself crying.

Inside her head she is screaming. She is screaming at herself to stop, pleading with Hans to shut up, and crying out to apologise to Anna. But no one seems to hear her.

 _Kill her, Your Majesty. You know you want this. You've always wanted this._

Before she can stop herself, she stabs the sword right through Anna's heart. She lets go when it's hilt deep.

Anna is snarling at her, saying how this is all Elsa's fault.

Hans is laughing.

And Elsa is frozen.

 _Well done, Your Majesty. You failed. Again._

No.

 _I died because of you!_

No!

"Your Majesty!"

Elsa jolts upright.

Her chest is heaving. Cold sweat is covering her skin like an extra layer of skin. Wind is howling through the room. She looks around, trying to slow her breathing. The place is covered with snow and icicles protrude from the ceiling. There are small, translucent clouds moving silently overhead.

Someone is banging on the door to her bedroom. It seems they are knocking their shoulder against it, but it is shut tight. There is a thick layer of ice covering it, sealing it and preventing its opening.

Her sheets are twisted around the lower half of her body and again she feels like she's been rolled up inside a carpet. She groans and closes her eyes against the splitting headache that's screaming between her temples.

Nightmare.

( _Kill her, Your Majesty._ )

She shakes her head but it only turns the headache up a few notches.

The banging on her door isn't helping, along with the loud shouts of, "Your Majesty!"

"Yes," she groans, trying to escape her sheets. "Yes Captain, I'm all right. Completely alone. Don't worry. Please don't make such a fuss. You'll wake the castle."

Pause.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She has to tell him to call her ma'am. The 'Your Majesty' tirade is getting a little irritating. At the age of twenty one, the title feels very ageing.

She rubs her eyes and sighs. She runs her hands through her hair but they get stuck in knots at the nape of her neck. She tries to yank her fingers out and ends up pulling harshly at her hair in the process. A frustrated snarl climbs up her throat.

Again, she tries to get out of her blankets but to no avail. She kicks violently against them. The force of it pushes her out of the bed and onto the floor.

"Oof!"

Her headache, damn it! She closes her eyes and takes a moment to try and soothe the dreadful pounding. She's a dreadful mess this morning. At least her injuries don't hurt anymore. Which is, admittedly, strange. People don't recover from blood loss in a matter of just over twenty four hours. This headache might just make up for it, though.

She finally makes it out of her sheets and leaves them there. They'll need to be washed anyway. Right now, what she needs is a hot cup of tea. And maybe some chocolate.

But first: presentability. Elsa pulls her curtains open to see stars still scattered across the dark blue sky, but the sun's rays are starting to push the night away. It looks to be about six o'clock in the morning—she can never tell in the summer months. She throws the windows open (feeling a deep satisfaction at being able to do that now) to get rid of the smell of sweat and fear.

( _A deep cackle—_ )

The final foreign trade policy is in two hours. She has to be ready. After today she will finally be alone. _Well not entirely_ , she tells herself. _You're talking to Anna now, remember? And that captain will be following wherever you go_.

Right. She turns from her window to look at the state her bedroom is in. Rubbing her hands together she makes a sweeping motion with her right hand and twists it up. Her magic dissolves the ice and now into blue sparkles

Elsa still hasn't hired a handmaiden. She knows she should, she knows a queen isn't expected to do such mundane things as brushing and braiding her own hair, but she can't bring herself to do it. It's too dangerous.

So she sits on the comfortable stool in front of her elaborate vanity, and tries to ignore the ugly dark circles under her eyes that seem to be screaming at her. Her skin is too pale, her eyes too pink and her hair is a mess. She is beginning to show her cracks for the first time in years.

Hans smiles beside her reflection.

She gasps, losing her balance on the stool. Ice spreads from where hands have caught her fall. There is no one in the room, she knows this. It's all in her head.

She sighs and holds her head in her hands, counting down from thirty to one to try and start the morning a little more calmly.

She picks up her hairbrush tries to unknot the mess behind her head. It is slow and frustrating work. Every ten seconds she stops to growl irritatedly at the brush but eventually she manages to tame the mane into semi-obedience. Enough to tie a simple plait, anyway.

Enough of this. She can't keep doing this every morning, with more important things to be doing. This would be done so much more quickly if she had a maid. And it wouldn't leave her wanting to rip something to shreds with her hands in frustration.

She sighs again, resolute.

Anger simmering too close to the surface, Elsa knows she doesn't have the patience to spend another half hour closing herself up in a corset and layers upon layers. She waves her hand the ice dress crawls back onto her petticoat like it's coming home. She places her crown on her head without looking in the mirror. She takes a breath. She is calm, cool, collected.

A gust of wind blows her bedroom door open, blowing her cape around behind her.

"Good morning, Captain," she says without stopping to look if he's following her.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," he replies, voice smooth.

"'Ma'am' will do."

"Ma'am."

Her hand pauses on the door to her quarters. She looks at him now. "Not a word."

She doesn't have to explain. He looks her steadily back in the eyes and nods in understanding. She can glean nothing from his expression, but she doesn't have to. He's already disgusted with her, disgusted with her lack of control, her carelessness with this curse. Any sane person would be.

She continues through the door and down the hall to the staircase.

There is silence between them.

At half six in the morning, the castle is already awake and well into preparations for the day ahead. The cleaning has already been done and the smell of breakfast permeated through every corridor, especially the more they climb towards the under levels of the castle. It's making Elsa's stomach grumble.

However, she is on a mission. She soon reaches the servants' quarters. She has only ever been here twice. Once when she was seven, and once again when she was eighteen, meeting the staff as the next to assume the throne. Her father had stressed to her the importance to never see herself as above the servants. She may be their queen, but they are the people that make up the kingdom. Neither is one without the other.

" _A monarch should make it their business to personally know everyone who works for them. It pays to know who does the work you can't. No one is not important enough for your attention."_

She feels the ghost of his hand on her shoulder as she remembers his words.

There's a maid at the door, blushing at what a stable boy is muttering to her. They're both leaning casually on the wall, her holding a bucket of soapy water with her back pressed against the wall, him with a bridle in one hand and his other arm draped over her head with his whole body turned to face her. He's adoring her with sleep-dazed eyes, and she can't look at him for bashfulness. Her eyes look everywhere but at him and she's the first to see Elsa striding gracefully down the corridor. Elsa must look slightly scarier in her ice dress too, the cape billowing behind her. The blush on the maid's face is no longer because of bashfulness and she shoves the stable boy to the other side of the wide, stone corridor, sinking into a low curtsey. The stable boy fumbles and stumbles, confused between trying to open the door for his queen, and bowing before her. He settles into a bow behind the open door.

Elsa murmurs a small, "Thank you", and she hears the maid squeak in surprise at her acknowledgement. Elsa smiles internally, just a little.

The entrance hall for the servants' quarters is one of the biggest in the castle. Set underneath the very centre, it is wide and long with more servants than Elsa has ever seen, milling about. There are parts of it made up by a huge kitchen, parts filled with long wooden tables, and other parts filled with an assortment of equipment the staff needs to keep the place running, from cleaning supplies to everything else.

It is about that time of the morning in between early morning chores and everyone's breakfast that everyone has a few minutes to spare to have a pleasant chat. The hall is filled with cheerful chatter and warm laughter and superiors' shouts. It looks and sounds like a home, really. Elsa has never seen so many people under one roof except perhaps at her coronation. Kai has really done a fantastic job at filling up the open positions in the castle in the past week.

But the cogs of this formidable machine screech to a stop when the first person sees the Queen, and the whispers fly, like birds fleeing from mischievous cats, from person to person until every last person has stopped what they are doing to stare at Elsa. They've never dreamt this possible in all their working lives.

She's never cared so much about people staring at her than at this moment, and has never, funnily enough, cared so much about the silent judgement in every single head. Again, she is painfully aware of what impression she makes in her 'Ice Queen' getup.

"Your Majesty."

Gerda bustles up to Elsa, seeming surprised to see her. The housekeeper bobs a quick curtsey. She nods to the captain as well. "Captain Waltz." He bows his head.

The words seem to knock everyone out of their reverie, and the whole room sinks into bowed heads and curtseyed legs. Elsa nods, but she's not sure anyone can see her. Every eye is on the ground.

Gerda smiles kindly at Elsa, which Elsa returns with a fraction of the warmth. Gerda has always had a fondness for Elsa that Elsa could never understand. Even when she was locked away, Gerda came in every day to personally make and light the fire in every room of Elsa's quarters. She would thaw all of Elsa's frozen sheets from the previous night. She would tell Elsa every day how much of a special, wonderful girl she was, and what a magnificent queen she would make. Not that Elsa believed her, of course, but Gerda never once gave up.

"Gerda. I need all the maids lined up that you think would be my handmaiden. Ask them, of course, the girl needs to be able to say no. But I really cannot go on without one. I'll come back after lunch to see them."

"Yes, ma'am. I will see to it at once."

"Good. And is the steward ready to begin?"

"Yes, ma'am. He will be introduced to you this afternoon."

Elsa nods and turns to leave.

"Ma'am?"

Gerda comes closer to her to murmur, "Any specific qualities you'd like them to possess?"

Elsa pauses for a moment, then murmurs to her in just as much a low voice. "Just make sure she's brave enough."

She sweeps out of the room, the captain silent but present at her side. The door opens for her again, but it's the maid holding this time. The stable boy seems to have vanished. Elsa stops to look at the girl. She recognises her. The black hair tucked into the white bonnet and the eyelashes a mile long. The girl's head stays bowed even as Elsa looks at her, but she figures it out. This is the maid that spoke to her when she froze the hallway the day before. Elsa hadn't thought about it at the time, too preoccupied with the fact that she'd lost control and with thoughts of Anna, but it was a strange—and very bold—thing to do for that maid to speak directly to Elsa without being spoken to. She would have been let go for her impertinence had Kai or Gerda heard of it. Speaking to the royal family without invitation was a very dangerous thing to do.

And also very brave.

"Your name?" Elsa asks, voice soft.

"Mai, Your Majesty," replies the maid, head still bowed and knees still bent.

"Mai."

Mai looks up at her then, with round black eyes that Elsa has seen before in a three year old's face. She actually smiles.

"I think I've met your brother."

A tentative smile breaks out on the girl's face. "Yes, Your Majesty. I believe so."

Elsa catches Gerda's eye behind her and Gerda nods. _This one will do very well._

"Goodbye Mai. I expect to see you again."

"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Mai stutters, curtseying and looking as if she can't quite believe she just had a conversation with the Queen.

Elsa nods again and moves on.

The Captain's presence is beginning to irk her. He moves silently and almost imperceptibly. He is her shadow. She doesn't like how easy he makes it seem. If she is not aware of him then she is not able to control herself as well she should be.

They are crossing the castle's entrance hall to the staircase when a messy bundle of muck and hay bursts through the doors. If the orange plaits weren't such a bright colour, Elsa thinks she would have missed her. She looks like she spent the night sleeping in horse dung. Smells like it, too.

"Elsa!" Anna cries in a high-pitched voice, both of them stopping dead in their tracks. "W-what are you doing here this early? I was just … taking a walk! Yes. A walk. At—" she glances at a clock behind her "—seven in the morning! Of course. I do this every day. And I don't go near the stables."She begins to edge her way past Elsa and the captain, tugging on her plaits and tripping over her feet. "Or Kristoff." She makes it to the stairs. "Definitely completely alone!" She turns and runs.

 _What is going on?_ Elsa stands there until General Toov arrives to knock the shock out of her.

"Ah, Your Majesty!"

She blinks for a moment. "General. Good morning."

She'll have to deal with Anna later.

"Good morning, ma'am. I see you've accepted your new shadow. I hope you don't mind that I appointed him without your permission, but something told me you'd have some trouble accepting the help unless it was forced upon you without your knowing."

She gives him a tight smile. He's right. "Does that mean you deserve my forgiveness, General?"

"Not in the slightest."

The General lets out a bark of laughter.

Her smile loosens as she slips into the familiar camaraderie with the General. Ever since she was three years old, they've had a good relationship. He had caught her playing with the daggers in castle training room. She had taken an immediate liking to swinging the weapons around and attacking the poles the training dummies stood on. He'd been the one to convince her father to let her learn the art of the sword. Although not something traditionally associated with women, the General had seen a knack in Elsa that was uncommon.

For nine years he had trained her with a sword until she'd decided at twelve to shut herself away completely. For those nine years, he had been the closest thing to a best friend.

She murmurs to him under her breath as they walk to the dining hall. "Have you arranged for an investigation into the arrow? Do you recognise it? Does anyone know who made it?"

He adopts the same voice, face just as blank as hers. "Yes, Your Majesty. Although not one of us was able to identify the weapon—and it is such a peculiar weapon, with no effort to be made aerodynamic—we have sent out two scouts to investigate the general area we think the arrow must have come from. No doubt they will be back soon."

Elsa nods. "Good."

They fall into polite conversation on the way to the dining hall, entering as though the previous exchange never transpired. Although the council has decided it's better to have the citizens know that they are implementing a plan of defence, it is wiser to keep the ugly details to themselves, so as not to panic anyone. This information of who shot the arrow could be catastrophic if it were publicly known. Especially because it could get to the ears of the foreign dignitaries and Elsa's Minister of Defence raised an important point yesterday in that Arendelle has no idea that it _wasn't_ one of the five nations they are trading with.

The dignitaries will of course know about the defence plan too. No kingdom doesn't have spies, and of course all of the visiting nations' servants will have spent the evening yesterday at the local inns, learning all about the Queen's government and their plan to protect the kingdom.

A servant had gone around the kingdom last night nailing pages of parchment everywhere, warning citizens not to panic because of the attack the day before, that the queen and her military will be introducing immediate precautions. She has a plan with the General to erect a wall of ice complete with watchtowers all along the north and south and east of the kingdom, all across the mouth of the fjord and surrounding forests. Their western line of defence will be the treacherous mountains that have protected Arendelle since its first settlement. The military will be on hyper-vigilance, and a curfew will be introduced.

But they can't have their military secrets fall into the hands of potential enemies of state.

Breakfast is a quiet enough affair for the most part, until Anna shuffles in, clean save for the few pieces of straw sticking out of her hair.

"Good morning," Anna chirps, a tentative smile on her face. She takes her place at Elsa's right.

"Anna," Elsa greets, looking back down at her plate with a blank face. "Good morning. Please excuse us, General."

"Your Majesty," he says, nodding and taking his leave. The door shuts behind him with a dreadful finality. Elsa sees Anna gulp out of the corner of her eye.

"So!" Anna says brightly. She glances at the Captain. "Who's this?"

"What were you thinking, Anna?"

Elsa's voice is low but it is sharp enough to cut through diamonds.

Anna blanches and laughs weakly. "I accidentally fell asleep in the stables. That's all."

Elsa raises an eyebrow.

"... Kristoff was there too."

Elsa frowns. "Anna, you know you cannot be engaging in such impropriety. You, as Crown Princess of this kingdom, cannot be seen gallivanting about with—with a _mountain man_ like this. Think of the implications. Think of your reputation—this family's reputation—and what you would do to it."

"Elsa, it's not like that—"

"You spent a whole night in his company. Alone. No daylight, no chaperone, nothing."

"Elsa—"

"And in the stables. My goodness."

"Elsa, please," Anna says, her eyes brimming with tears. "You know it's not like that."

"This is unacceptable, Anna."

Her voice hasn't risen. It has remained steady and plain. Her eyes haven't moved from her plate. Her expression hasn't changed.

"This is inappropriate behaviour. I don't want it to happen again. That is all."

Anna is silent for a moment but when she speaks there is stone in her voice. "What are you saying, Elsa? Huh? Are you saying I can never see him again?"

Elsa almost can't believe Anna's talking back to her. She is being reasonable, after all. "Oh please, Anna. I wish you wouldn't be dramatic. All I'm saying to you is—"

"Stop it, Elsa. You're not saying it to me, you're saying it to your plate. You can't even look me in the eye. Acting so bored and patronising, as if you have the right to tell me what to do. You are _not_ my mother."

Elsa looks at her now, struggling against the emotions inside to maintain an air of placid boredom. Anna shivers with the temperature drop. "Quite right. I am your Queen."

Anna stares at her, shocked that she would even play this card. Elsa doesn't like it either, but she is not Queen because she likes it. Anna is not respecting her sensible request. How difficult is that to understand?

"Elsa," Anna breathes, betrayal etched all over her face. "Please."

"What do you want me to say, Anna? That it's okay if you go and _spend the night_ with a man with whom you are not married? This would have been far less scandalous were it a prince, or someone with at least a title, but no. He is no one. Just a person. And people can be replaced. Princesses can't."

Elsa folds her knife and fork on her plate and it is whisked away. She is suddenly very aware of the presence of servants in the room, and especially the captain. There are ears everywhere.

People are constantly listening in, constantly _being_ , and it's driving Elsa mad. It was the same when she accidentally made her powers known at her coronation. There was a room full of people, and then a courtyard full of people. Maybe her years of isolation were lonely, but at least she had privacy. She was alone and everything was hers. Now she has nothing. Even less, because no matter where she is, there will always be one person taking from her present. It's infuriating. And it doesn't seem to bother Anna one bit.

"He's someone to me!" Anna shouts, jumping up from her seat. "He's my friend, Elsa. More than you are."

She freezes. Elsa blinks slowly. Anna's words are like a blade in the heart, bringing with them a range of emotions including sadness and desperation. The hurt sends ice sparking between her fingers. But one emotion prevails above the others. Guilt pools inside her and wells up behind her eyes, stinging. Anna's mouth opens and closes as she tries to say, but the Queen is already getting up to leave. The Captain follows.

"I didn't mean it, Elsa," Anna says weakly, desperately. "I'm sorry."

"No matter, Your Highness." Elsa looks her sister in the eye as she stands by the door. Anna flinches at the cold title. "I'm sure you have other duties to attend to today."

She leaves, and if there is a little frost on the floor, who can blame her?

Elsa tries not to think too long about how the carriage that is ordered to take the royal sisters down to the harbour looks different. How the rust-smell of blood isn't there and there's no spike of ice sprouting from the floor. She lets go of the footman's gloved hand before she freezes it.

The short journey down is one of the most awful, tense things Elsa has ever had to endure, but she prevails. She has not learnt to conceal her emotions for nothing, after all. She is the epitome of perfect grace and civility, etiquette and poise.

The princess that has stuffed herself in the corner furthest away with a sour expression on her face and her arms folded hard into her chest, is not.

Elsa tries to make conversation, tries to be polite, but Anna is having none of it. She responds only with muted, monosyllabic answers, and eventually, not at all.

Elsa sighs and resigns herself to silence until they arrive at the harbour. Anna's brave face in front of all the dignitaries is not nearly as calm as her own. There are the cracks of amateur concealment there, that are apparent to anyone even slightly familiar with the game of politics can see. Elsa's is flawless.

Everyone is surprised to see the Queen as she is this early afternoon. She looks the picture of health; no limp, no sling, and no pallor They had heard of the commotion yesterday. Although they were assured it was nothing, they would have expected the Queen to be a little more of a mess. Elsa takes a quiet pleasure in the fact that she's not.

Seeing everyone off is a long and slow process. It's even slower with the army of guards surrounding the queen and the princess, even if Elsa allows only the captain stand right beside her. She must allow them to kiss her hand engages them all in individual conversation, being sure to leave them with the impression that she is nothing less than charming. Her blood pumps thick and fast with the rush of playing politics, the only game she has ever loved to play.

The only time she trips, is when the King of Finland steps forward to take her gloved hand. "Your Majesty. To celebrate this new union between our countries, and the end of a rather cold spell—" Elsa's polite smile tightens just the slightest "—I will be hosting a ball in one month's time. Everyone is to be invited, and I dearly hope to see your face."

She barely manages to keep a lid on her panic. How is Elsa supposed to defend her kingdom the threat of war when she's at a party miles and miles away? They can't afford to engage in frivolities. People's lives are at stake here. How could the King think this is a good idea?

"I will do my very best," she lies, holding on to her smile as best she can. "There is a lot of work to be done here before we can allow ourselves to celebrate anything."

She hopes he will catch the undercurrent of a polite declination in her words.

He doesn't. "Your Majesty, as the best of us all, I am sure you will manage it famously."

Elsa laughs, unamused.

"Farewell, Your Majesty," she says.

"Farewell!"

She watches him board the ship with anxious thoughts. She feels Anna step in close to her for the first time all afternoon and tries not to let the ice in her fingers escape. She longs to stand closer, to feel Anna's sunshine warmth so that she can forget, for just a moment, all the turmoil and hardship.

"A ball would be nice," she says, almost whispering. Her frail voice sparks a crack along Elsa's heart.

"We can't accept the invitation."

Anna's voice is impossibly frailer. "Why not?"

"Anna, we're on the brink of war." Elsa turns to look at her. "Someone attacked us yesterday, with the intention to take lives. If you can't see how serious this is, then I don't know what to say to you."

Hans' dark laughter fills her head again before she shakes the sound of him out.

Anna doesn't meet her gaze, staring as the last ship slowly moves to the mouth of the fjord. "We've never had a real ball before. The only ball I've ever been to—"

"—was ruined by me, yes I know. But we just can't risk it." Elsa folds her hands in front of her and joins her sister in watching the ships dotted on the horizon. "It's too dangerous."

Anna fiddles with her skirt for a few moments. She hums in quiet understanding before she walks back to the carriage, hugging her arms to her chest. So young to be in so much pain.

"Captain," Elsa says, turning to him, drowning in the weakness in her limbs and her lightness of head. "Let the General know we will construct the wall tomorrow. I am as of yet too weak to do it today."

He nods with a quiet "Your Majesty", and turns to give the order to a young soldier.

She walks back to the carriage and,again, Elsa is in danger of freezing the footman. The silence of the drive back to the castle weighs heavily on her shoulders, and she doesn't bother trying to make conversation with Anna.

The both of them have a lot on their minds. She will worry about her sister later.


End file.
